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Boo	By : Kip Category: DC Verse Comics > Batman Views: 10932 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Batman series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Boo
- 2-Boo to you
- 1
- 2
"Boo…" That word, spoken in the Joker's jolliest tones, along with the curious odour, were all that Bruce Wayne's overloaded senses had time to process, before he passed out.
Waking was unpleasant, accompanied as it was by the irresistible need to vomit. And now. He was cold, and hot, and cold again, the shivers rolling through him with worrying regularity. His saliva glands prickled sharply as the inner tide rose.
Oh no, not now! He was going to vomit, and Bruce loathed puking! What the hell had he been thinking of, drinking in public? Let alone enough to let himself get in this state? With his head too fuzzy for any sort of coherent thought, it was all he could do to keep breathing. Something as complex as balance was beyond his current capabilities, but, thankfully, someone else seemed to have worked that out too…
"Easy there," A large, no – make that VERY large hand, caught his forehead on the downward jolt and held him away from the shiny white wall, which was suddenly WAY too close. It wasn’t fair, this place having moving walls - the damn floor rolling under him was bad enough, without the walls twitching too…
"You got a big dose of the stuff, didn’t you? But don't stress," The voice soothed. "I gotcha… Get it all out, kiddo, you'll feel better for it."
Head spinning, Bruce gave up fighting, took a back seat in his body and let it all happen around him.
After the dreadful deed, the wet cloth wiping his face and the drink of cool clean water were accepted without protest. Someone, and he really didn’t want to think about who it might be at this point, since the arms around him were warm and supportive, lifted him up as if he were a child, and carried him over to a neatly made cot, setting him down on it and draping a softly folding quilt around him.
"That's right, you go back to sleep. It'll all seem better in the morning."
Still half in the drug-induced dream-state, Bruce felt no distress or embarrassment, his only coherent thoughts were of how unusual it felt to be the recipient of such tender care, and how pleasant. The world blurred out around him again, reduced to the feel of warm skin against his, driving the aches away…
"Puddin'?"
A strident female voice startled him awake, setting Bruce's neck hairs instantly on edge.
"What'cha doin'?" A waft of far-too-strong perfume preceded its owner into the room. "Oh, you're not still fussin' over HIM are you?" The woman asked. "Just lock the cage door, and leave him, Bruce Wayne ain't goin' nowhere."
"I realise that, Harley, but if he drowns in his own vomit before we can ransom him, we won't get any money, will we?" The deep voice pointed out, while warm hands subtly stroked over Bruce's arm. "Not to mention the cleaning up… And I do so hate having guests die on me, it's so tedious…" The latter was said in a wistful tone.
Wandering fingers continued to lightly explore the curve of Bruce's shoulder.
"And why," The owner of the strong arms and soothing habits asked, "Aren't you out there keeping an eye open for the Bat? Like you were asked to do?" The latter comment was added on in a tone that suggested that compliance, and Right Now, would be in everyone's best interests.
"Aww, Mistah J!"
"Harl… I'll make this really simple for you - go stay with the techno-geek, watch the screens, and make sure that the Bat keeps out of our hair until we get the ransom money…"
Surprised, Bruce opened his eyes.
"Hey there," Red orbs glanced down at him, the arms still cradling him shifted ever so slightly but showed no inclination to let him go. "She woke you, didn’t she? The silly girl…"
"Joker?" Bruce managed to ask, through lips that really did not want to co-operate.
"Ah, I see my fame precedes me," Seen from this close the pale skin was pearlescent, the lips a lurid green. The other man smelt of musk and something intriguing. Overwhelmed, Bruce fainted gratefully.
He was woken by the stab of a needle into his bicep, and a feminine giggle.
Harley! The next second Bruce was on the verge of screaming in agony, as waves of pain began clashing in his body. The edge of the bed was right in front of his eyes, with the floor only inches beyond it. Unable to move so much as a muscle, Bruce body-slammed into it and hit hard, laying crumpled where he had fallen.
The bitch… Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his tormentor standing watching.
"Ooops!" Harley made a face, "I think I gave you too much…"
Despite himself, Bruce let out a low groan of distress.
"You what?" Joker's voice made the woman jump.
Bruce noted that she didn’t look anywhere near as pleased with herself now. He might have enjoyed that, but right now he had other things clamouring for his attention. Pain, for one, and the nausea was back.
"What the fuck did you do, Harley?" Joker bounded across the room. "How much of that did you give him?!!"
Harley shrugged. "The rest of it."
"All of it? The rest of the ampoule?" Backhanding her viciously, before shoving his sidekick out of the way, Joker slid one solidly thewed arm under Bruce and casually hauled him up off the floor. "You can't get the staff these days!" He spat.
"Bruce," Joker set him hurriedly back on the mattress, "We have to neutralise this, but it isn't going to be easy on you."
Pulling something out of an inner pocket, Joker blew it in Bruce's face. The smell of Joker-Gas was unmistakeable. Instinctively, Bruce held his breath.
"No, you have to trust me! This is the only fix…" The villain whispered sadly, "That other stuff will kill you if I don’t get the counter agent into you now, quickly breathe it in!"
Whether he would have trusted the other man enough to obey him or not, Bruce suddenly found himself unable to even try. His straining lungs locked tight. Gasping uselessly he felt his racing heart start to stutter.
"Damn," Inhaling powerfully, Joker bent over, pressing his lips against Bruce's and forcing the gas into Bruce's lungs. Stroking one hand over Bruce's hair, he continued to hold him, occasionally inhaling another puff of gas and breathing it into Bruce.
Helpless, in the arms of his enemy, Bruce groaned as heat and pain collided inside him. Darkness claimed him as his mouth was commandeered by the Joker.
"No, shush, just try and drink your medicine, baby."
The edge of a beaker was pressed to his lips, but his muscles wouldn’t respond, nothing worked. He couldn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow. Even his eyes stayed stubbornly shut.
"Easy, sweetie, no, don’t cry, you'll get yourself all choked up… you might stop breathing again."
He'd stopped breathing? What the hell was happening to him? And why? More than a little frightened, and frustrated beyond belief, Bruce lay there, hot tears leaking from under tightly closed eyelids, despite his efforts to stop them.
"It's not the end of the world, beautiful," The deep voice murmured. The sound of someone sipping confused him. Why was someone else getting the drink when he was so thirsty? The tears began flowing again, scalding in contrast to the cool air in the room. Then, shockingly, there was heat.
Lips pressed against his. Unexpectedly, fluid poured in between his tightly clenched teeth, and only the gag reflex saved Bruce from choking.
"You're all locked up, but this will help." His companion promised quietly, holding him at a careful angle, "I've got you, precious, just try and ride it out."
Precious? Bruce tried to respond, only to find himself incapable. Who was holding him? Talking to him? Did he call me 'beautiful' before?
"Just a few hours more, it's already starting to clear your system," The other man was saying. The tone was so serious that for a moment Bruce simply couldn’t place it, then in a sudden burst of clarity he recalled a white face, green hair…
Joker?
Unconsciousness slammed back over Bruce with the force of a tidal wave, and even the hands that grabbed at him were not strong enough to prise him from its grip.
A cool wet cloth wiped gently over his face and neck. "Easy," Joker soothed. "Just lie still, and don’t fret over things. I've sent Harley away for a few days, that girl was getting far too annoying."
Opening his eyes, Bruce found his captor sitting cross-legged on the bed. Joker didn’t look anywhere near as menacing as usual. Although maybe that was a lot to do with the continuing absence of anything Bat-related?
"I didn’t intend to harm you," The red eyes glittered a little less frenetically, "Only to keep you here until the Bat came to find you."
Befuddled, Bruce closed his heavy eyes again with a long sigh. Like that was going to happen!
"Aww, sweetie," Rough hands eased him into a different position. "She really did a number on you, didn’t she? I don’t think Harley likes you," He confided. "Can't see why, you seem pretty easy on the eyes to me…"
The world was already fading away again, but before it vanished entirely, Bruce could have sworn that he felt something wet lick up along his cheek.
Still mostly paralysed from the drug, Bruce could only watch as the Joker sashayed in.
"Don’t worry," The ruby eyes glittered, "I'm not going to let anything else hurt you." Which usually meant that he intended to do the job himself, didn’t it?
Joker took up position on the mattress again, lounging at Bruce's side. "I'm going to stay right here, with you, until the drugs are all gone." He added.
Idly, Bruce wondered why that didn’t sound more threatening?
"Such lovely blue eyes…" The other man leant closer. "In fact, you're very attractive everywhere – for a man, Mr Wayne… or may I call you, Bruce?"
With his limbs rendered wooden and unresponsive by the drugs, when his captor decided to prevent bed sores by picking him up and holding him, Bruce had no choice but to lay there passively and let himself be cuddled. Joker might be deranged, but he was attentive, and warm…
Abstractly, Bruce noted that it was quite pleasant, not having any choice in what was going on, just for a change whatever happened was not his responsibility; the realisation was curiously relaxing, even a little exciting, in fact, now he thought about it, he was finding it distinctly arousing. At that revelation the inevitable dull throb started to pulse in his groin.
Oh no, not here! And not now! But it was, and Bruce had the distinct impression that it wasn’t going to go away by itself either. Thankfully the fever hid his scorching blush.
It was the loud moans echoing off stone walls that woke him, that and the feel of being shaken. The moans sounded familiar, if only he could hear himself think…
"Sssh, I love it when you scream, but we don’t want to wake the neighbours, now do we?" A throaty baritone purred. Soft wet heat slid over his face and lips. "Sssh, baby… just lie nice and quiet…"
That couldn’t be right, could it? Was it really him making those noises? Thinking about it, it did seem to be. But why? Memories surfaced, flickers, lacking cohesion, recollections of being… touched, of fingers roaming across his naked skin, and of velvet steel reaming him to the core.
"Need a hand, precious?" Fingers slid under the cover and wrapped around his engorged cock.
Oh god, he… In a sudden flashback Bruce relived the memory of another's weight laying on him, of heat that pressed him down onto the mattress and ruthlessly penetrated him. Gasping as he realised that it had actually happened, Bruce tensed into the hands that held him, and came.
"Feeling any better?"
Almost before he had considered the question, Bruce found himself answering. "Yes, and I like you holding me." He blushed, amazed at his own forwardness. Why wasn’t he more upset about that? He didn’t seem to be able to care…
"Ah, you might have noticed that there are a few side effects to the treatment you received?" Joker smirked. "Along with throwing a person's inhibitions out of the nearest window, it makes them say whatever's on their mind – no evasions." He grinned, "I find it very liberating. The paralysis' a bastard though. You've got at least another hour before that wears off."
"Oh god…" Bruce groaned aloud. "I am SO screwed."
To Bruce's astonishment, instead of taking offence, the Joker started to laugh. "How much of the past few hours do you remember, beautiful?"
"Remember?" Bruce was puzzled. What was the other man talking about? Cradled in the madman's arms, head resting on the Joker's broad shoulder, forehead pressed against the side of the man's porcelain-pale jaw, he became increasingly aware of a sensation of wetness accompanying a mild ache in his nether regions, of liquid trickling out from inside him and creeping along the crack of his arse.
What the hell IS that? It was also starting to occur to Bruce that, despite not being able to move, he was also feeling vaguely sore down there in a way that he had never experienced before. Considering the location, and his current situation, it didn’t take a genius to guess the cause.
"Did you really have sex with me last night?" He asked quietly. "Or did I hallucinate that?"
"Yes, and no…" Turning to press a light kiss on Bruce's forehead, Joker sighed. "Technically we didn’t have sex," He admitted. "What I actually did, was rape you," He lifted Bruce's face until they were eye to eye. "Several times."
The sheer blunt honesty of the answer derailed any protest Bruce might have made. "Did you like taking me?" He asked, suddenly curious.
"Oh, yes," The larger man whispered. "Being in you felt so very good."
"Would you…"
"What?" The villain eyed him with a little suspicion.
"… take me again?"
"Again?" The massive head tilted in ponderous thought. "Are you asking me to?"
"Oh god…" Bruce let slip another moan, "…yes…"
Broad fingers reached for the waist of his joggers, and slid them down a little, before settling him back on Joker's lap. "Convince me, gorgeous…" His captor whispered, as a finger tip wandered down and along the curve of Bruce's buttocks.
Sitting there, immobile, legs spread apart, Bruce was already desperate. "You want me, don’t you? So touch me," He implored. "I don’t think I've ever needed anything so much… I'm so hard…"
A mesmerisingly warm hand slowly eased the joggers down to his shins, leaving him more frantic than ever, for anything, anything at all, to end this torment. The calloused palm smoothing up and along his inner thighs only added to the sensation.
"You've got me hard too," Joker confessed, hauling on his zip and freeing himself. The leaking tip left a wet kiss on Bruce's hip.
"Do it again," He whispered. "Please…" If he could have moved, Bruce would have arched his back and willingly impaled himself on the bobbing length. "Rape me."
"I can't rape you now," Joker murmured, "Can I?" A hand slid down his chest and tormented a vulnerable nipple. "Because you want this."
Leaning around to lick the stiff peak, the deadly clown teased an impressive erection against Bruce's buttocks. "What you're really asking for is that I fuck you." He added.
"Then fuck me!" Bruce moaned, "Whatever you want to call it, just take me! Now!"
"Mmm? Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely," His captor chuckled. Bruce was lifted, turned to face the deranged villain, and settled, knees akimbo over massively muscled thighs. The tip of Bruce's cock was just a fraction too far from the other man to allow any friction, even supposing he'd been able to command his own body yet. He suspected that the tease was deliberate, but complaining didn’t seem like a sensible move under the circumstances. Not that any of this was even vaguely sensible. Then again, who cared?
"Please!" Bruce wasn’t above begging by now. The ache in his balls was expanding toward agony. "Please, fuck me…"
A hot finger traced the rim of his hole, and he willingly gave the questing tip entry.
"Oh, baby… you feel so fine, look so good…" Joker approved. "I never expected you to actually want this, but you do, don’t you?"
Bruce had no doubts about the answer to that one. "Yes."
The Joker's cock was large, so large that it took several seconds before it slipped in through the tight aperture, but the traces of the earlier penetration had left Bruce slick and more open than usual, and it wasn’t long before the hard heat was nudging deeper into him.
"Do you like this?" Joker breathed the question into his ear. "Being helpless on my lap, my cock up your arse?"
"Mmmm," Bruce was rapidly losing the ability to think, not that he cared in the slightest at that moment.
"So good," The larger man approved, wrapping a meaty palm around Bruce's rigid erection and stroking it firmly. "That's so good, another push and I'll be all the way in, you…" Pumping his hips, he groaned, jerking and thrusting into Bruce.
"Oh yes! So tight still… Nearly… Yes!!!" When the other man came, scalding liquid jetting up inside him, Bruce surrendered and let the pleasure take him too.
The cage was large, and Bruce had explored every inch of it by now. His head was finally clear and he was getting restless, even if certain parts might have appreciated a bit of 'down-time'. He was definitely going to need to sit rather carefully for the next few days…
The lock clanked open. "Time to go, sweetie." Joker bounded into the room. "You're sprung."
"What?" Bruce couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
"Oh, maybe I'm just old-fashioned," His captor grinned hugely, "but I've simply lost interest in this kidnapping lark… You're a free man again, handsome, so toddle off, do."
"They paid the ransom?"
"As if!" Joker laughed hugely. "It was never really about the money, what I wanted was to piss the Bat off… and since it doesn’t look like he's ever going to show, well…"
"Out of interest, how much did you ask for me?" Bruce had to know.
With a grin, Joker leaned in close and told him.
"I ought to be insulted." Bruce pouted, gathering all of his nerve, he took hold of the green haired fool and kissed him thoroughly. "You should have asked twice that. Unless you don’t think I'm worth it?" He added.
Chortling with glee, Joker caught him up, hugged him, and set him back down. "Oh, you're definitely worth any amount of money, perfectly priceless in fact…"
There was one more thing on Bruce's mind… and if he didn’t ask now, then he might never get an answer.
"I'm amazed at you, Joker, all that time with me helpless in your clutches," Bruce felt an illicit tingle run through his groin at the admission, and judging by the expression on the pale face, Joker was feeling much the same, "And you never took advantage," He finished.
"I didn’t?" Eyebrows lofted toward green hair. "The way I remember things, I certainly gave it the old college try."
"Not in the way I mean," Bruce gave the other man a wry smile. "You had me at your mercy, but you never even asked me about the Batman."
"Perhaps I had better things to think about?" Joker cocked an eyebrow. "What about the Bat, though?"
"Oh, I'll never tell now…"
"Tease."
"Hey, I delivered, didn’t I?" Bruce protested lightly.
"As I recall, it was mainly ME delivering." Joker smirked. "But you were good too."
"Why, thank you." Posing against the wall, Bruce enjoyed the effect he was having on the other man.
"No… Thank YOU."
"What are you going to do now?" Bruce wondered.
"Do?" Red eyes glittered at him. "Oh, there are always so many things to do, aren't there? Plans to plan, schemes to scheme. Crime doesn’t just happen, you know? But thinking of which, that irritating idiot Gordon is nosing around topside," Joker flicked a switch and a concealed elevator opened. "If you're quick, you can get a free ride home."
"I may just do that." Bruce nodded.
"And what will you tell him?"
Obviously Bruce wasn’t the only one with a few lingering questions. He shrugged, keeping it casual. "Oh, I'm sure I'll manage something."
"A smart cookie like you? You'll have him wrapped around your finger in no time," The other man suggested. Was there just a hint of uncertainty there? But about what?
"He's not my type." Bruce said firmly.
"No?" Joker looked less hesitant.
"No… I,"
A pale hand brushed his lips, cautioning him to silence, before trailing along the edge of his jaw. "We'll meet again." Joker murmured. "Hhmmm? Now doesn’t that sound like a song?" He began to hum, quite tunefully, but slightly off tempo.
Without noticing that they'd moved, Bruce found himself in the lift, the door already closing. He was half-tempted to say something, but maybe that was just the after effects of the gas?
He's right about one thing… we will meet again… this isn't over, and the next round's going to be on my terms.
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